I reckon thats true. We havent much to worry us, Jake and me.
Mr. Pawson grinned mischievously. By gaw, Roddy, you never spoke a truer word. No wife, no kids, no life insurance, no overdraft at tbankyou must have a right peaceful existence.
movement. As we watched he reached out and licked his masters face while his tail flickered between his legs.
Look at that! the man exclaimed. Hes all right again. Youd think he didnt ail a thing.
And indeed Jake was recovering his confidence rapidly. He peered tentatively at the floor a few times, then suddenly jumped down, trotted to his master, and put his paws against his chest.
I looked at the dog standing there, tail wagging furiously. Well, thats a relief, anyway. I didnt like the look of him just then, but whatevers been troubling him seems to have righted itself. Ill
My happy flow was cut off. I started for the lurcher. His forelegs were on the floor again and his mouth was gaping as he fought for breath. Frantically he gasped and retched, then he blundered across the floor, collided with the pram wheels, and fell on his side.
What the hell ! Quick, get him up again! I grabbed the animal round the middle and we lifted him back onto the table.
I watched in disbelief as the huge form lay there. There was no fight for breath nowhe wasnt breathing at all, he was unconscious. I pushed my fingers along the inside of his thigh and felt the pulse. It was still going, rapid and feeble, but yet he didnt breathe.
He could die any moment and I stood there helpless, all my scientific training useless. Finally my frustration burst from me and I struck the dog on the ribs with the flat of my hand.
Jake! I yelled, Jake, whats the matter with you?
As though in reply, the lurcher immediately started to take great wheezing breaths, his eyelids twitched back to consciousness, and he began to look about him. But he was still mortally afraid and he lay prone as I gently stroked his tousled head.
There was a long silence while the animals terror slowly subsided, then he sat up on the table, looked round the room, and finally regarded us placidly.
There you are, Roddy said softly. Same thing again. Ah cant reckon it up and ah thought ah knew summat about dogs.
I didnt say anything. I couldnt reckon it up either, and I was supposed to be a veterinary surgeon.
I spoke at last. Roddy, that wasnt a fit. He was choking. Something was interfering with his air flow. I took my hand torch from my breast pocket. Im going to have a look at his throat.
I pushed Jakes jaws apart, depressed his tongue with a forefinger, and shown the light into the depths. He was the kind of good-natured dog who offered no resistance as I prodded around, but despite my floodlit view of the pharynx I could find nothing wrong. I had been hoping desperately to come across a bit of bone stuck there somewhere, but I ranged feverishly over pink tongue, healthy tonsils, and gleaming molars without success. Everything looked perfect.
I was tilting his head a little farther when I felt him stiffen and heard Roddys cry.
Hes goin again!
And he was, too. I stared in horror as the brindled body slid away from me and lay prostrate once more on the table. And again the mouth strained wide and froth bubbled round the lips. As before, the breathing had stopped and the rib cage was motionless. As the seconds ticked away I beat on the chest with my hand but it didnt work this time. I pulled the lower eyelid down from the staring orb-the conjunctiva was blue, Jake hadnt long to live. The tragedy of the thing bore down on me. This wasnt just a dog, he was this mans family and I was watching him die.
It was at that moment that I heard the faint sound. It was a strangled cough which barely stirred the dogs lips.
Damn it! I shouted. He is choking. There must be something down there.
Again I seized the head and pushed my torch into the mouth, and I shall always be thankful that at that very instant the dog coughed again, opening up the cartilages of the larynx and giving me a glimpse of the cause of all the trouble. There, beyond the drooping epiglottis, I saw for a fleeting moment a smooth round object no bigger than a pea.
I think its a pebble, I gasped. Right inside his larynx.
You mean, in is Adams apple?
Thats right, and its acting like a ball valve, blocking his windpipe every now and then. I shook the dogs head. You see, look, Ive dislodged it for the moment. Hes coming round again.
Once more Jake was reviving and breathing steadily.
Roddy ran his hand over the head, along the back and down the great muscles of the hind limbs. But but itll happen again, wont it?
I nodded. Im afraid so.
And one of these times it isnt goin to shift and thatll be the end of im? He had gone very pale.
Thats about it, Roddy. Ill have to get that pebble out.
But
how ?
Cut into the larynx. And right nowits the only way.
All right, he swallowed. Lets get on. I dont think ah could stand it if he went down again.
I knew what he meant. My knees had begun to shake, and I had a strong conviction that if Jake collapsed once more then so would I. I seized a pair of scissors and clipped away the hair from the ventral surface of the larynx. I dared not use a general anesthetic, and therefore I infiltrated the area with local before swabbing with antiseptic. Mercifully there was a freshly boiled set of instruments lying in the sterilizer, and I lifted out the tray and set it on the trolley by the side of the table.